


Fluffy Smashed

by authoressjean



Series: The Fluffy Files [42]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-29
Updated: 2001-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 14:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoressjean/pseuds/authoressjean





	

Spike grinned as he imagined the look of horror on Buffy’s face when he had suggested that they do a little ‘grunt work’. “I was talking shop, luv, but if you got other ideas….you, me, cozy little tomb with a view…”

Buffy quickly glanced over at Xander and Anya, who were listening in to her conversation. She sighed. “All right, if you’ve got a lead on this thing, I’ll be right there.” She hung up the phone and turned to Xander.

“So, what did Captain Peroxide want?” Xander asked, leaning back in his chair.

“He said he’s got a lead on this ice monster thing. He needs me in the cemetery. I’m gonna head over there and see what he’s got.” Inside, Buffy was turning scarlet. ‘Grunt work’? What was that supposed to mean? He could be such a pervert when he wanted to. She growled in frustration.

“You okay?” Xander asked.

Buffy jumped. “Me? Fine. Peachy. Couldn’t be better.”

Before Xander could comment further, she turned and headed towards the door, not bothering to look back.

Upon reaching the cemetery, she almost growled in frustration again. The cemetery was huge; how was she supposed to know where to go?

As if on cue, Spike appeared behind her. “Slayer,” he growled, smirking.

Buffy frowned. “Okay, where’s the demon? I’ve gotta get home to Dawn, so can we make this quick?”

Spike grinned, and for the first time in a long time, Buffy felt her stomach flip. The grin was full of malice and wickedness. “Spike?” she asked, a little uncertain.

“Did some diggin’ when you were busy, and I found some interesting bones,” he said, walking over to her. Buffy never saw it coming. His hand shot forward, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground, shock running through her head. She looked back at him, bewildered, as she tried to stop the world from spinning.

“Oh, the pain! The pain…is gone,” he added, his grin growing broader.

Buffy’s eyes widened. “What did you do?” she demanded, rising to her feet, ready to spring into combat mode.

“That’s the beauty of it, pet. I didn’t do a thing. It’s you. See, when you came back, you came back wrong.”

Buffy felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. The past few months came rushing back at her, and she couldn’t help but think that maybe he was right. But she would never admit it to him. “That’s not true,” she hissed through clenched teeth. Inside, she was trying not to burst into tears. She had a feeling that Spike was out for blood, and now that he could get some, she didn’t think he’d hold back.

She was right. Spike smirked and vamped out, then lunged for her. She dodged and crouched low, sweeping his feet out from under him when he landed. He went backwards, but saved himself by flipping. He landed and grinned at her. “What’s the matter, Slayer? ‘Fraid it’s true? ‘Cause it is.”

“Doesn’t matter. I always knew you were just a dog on a leash. The moment the chip disappeared, you’d head out and try to kill the first person you could. Guess I was right.”

Spike growled and leapt for her, tackling her to the ground. As she tried to get her legs underneath him, she grabbed his arms and shoved, rolling until she was the one on top. He quickly turned the tables again, and she was flat on her back again, the wind knocked out of her temporarily. She gasped, trying to push him off and get her breath back at the same time.

Inside, her heart was starting to pound. This couldn’t be happening. Tears of frustration rose up in her eyes, and she almost cursed. She should’ve known this would happen. The whole thing about him loving her? She’d finally thought he’d been telling the truth, but she supposed that she had been wrong. Again.

With a cry of rage she tucked her knees up to her and kicked as hard as she could. Spike went flying with a loud, “Bloody ‘ell!” But she didn’t care. At the moment, she had the advantage. And that was all she needed.

She flipped herself onto her feet and with a feeling of bitter grief pulled out a stake. She’d been hoping it would never come to this. Apparently it had.

She stole a quick glance at Spike and found him getting to his feet slowly. He was at least ten, fifteen feet away. She didn’t know she’d had such a powerful kick.

Stake clasped firmly in her hand, she started running just as he steadied himself. She was so intent watching him, she missed the tarp.

She stepped onto the tarp and gasped with surprised as she fell into the newly dug grave, which the tarp had been covering. She landed with a ‘thud’ and suddenly her vision was gone. It was harder to breathe, too. She could hardly move…

When her vision finally adjusted to the darkness, she gasped with fear as she realized where she was. She was living her worst nightmare.

Again.

Spike had been more then surprised when the tarp underneath Buffy had given away. He had heard her gasp as she fell, and the ‘bam’ that had quickly followed, but then silence had descended.

He waited a few more moments, then shrugged off the worried feelings that were growing. He had decided that he was NOT going to love her, or care about her anymore. His heart, however, had other ideas. Maybe if he acted like he didn’t care about her anymore, he could convince himself that he didn’t. Yeah, right.

He’d seen her tears when he had been struggling with her, and it had almost broken his heart. But he had hardened his heart, and had continued fighting her. It was possibly the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

Cautiously, he leaned forward and slowly began to approach the hole. If Buffy was laying low, she could spring out and dust him at any given time.

“What, hiding already, Slayer?” he shouted, smirking. “I haven’t even started. Been lookin’ forward to this for years. C’mon, Slayer!”

He paused, not hearing Buffy. He frowned, confused. “Slayer?” he asked, his voice a little lower and not as cruel. He walked over to the hole and glanced inside.

Buffy was nowhere to be seen. The only thing occupying the hole was a wooden coffin. Where had she gone? His eyes widened at the realization. She couldn’t be…

“Buffy?” he yelled. Oh please, pet, answer me, he thought. A curse, a retort, anything, please, just say something! “Buffy!!” he screamed, fully panicked now.

He was about to call out again when he heard a faint noise. Straining to hear, he leaned down towards the ground and picked up the sound of faint, muffled screams. They were coming from the coffin.

Within seconds he was down in the hole, his former cruelty and anger long gone. In their place was concern and love for the missing girl.

Now that he was even closer, he could hear someone pounding on the lid of the coffin. “Buffy?” he yelled again.

The screams stopped, along with the pounding. “Spike?!” came the surprised, muffled reply.

“Hold on, luv, I’m gonna get you out, all right? Just hold tight.”

“Hurry, please! There’s not much air in here. I already tried the lock and punching the lid. It won’t budge,” Buffy said, choking up. She sounded terrified, and every now and then she’d cough.

Spike started pulling desperately on the lock. From his calculations, she only had about five minutes of air left. With an anguished cry, he jerked his hand back from the lock. It was jammed.

He started punching the lid, but pulled his hand back, surprised. The wood on top of the coffin had cracked, revealing a layer of metal. She was trapped.

Spike felt tears prick the back of his eyes. No. He wasn’t going to lose her again. He started punching the lid again with renewed vigor.

He stopped punching again as he realized that this was his fault. If he hadn’t called her to come to the cemetery, she wouldn’t be trapped. He’d only asked her to come so he could show her that she wasn’t a step above him anymore. That arrogant idea seemed like a petty little deal compared to what was happening now.

If he only hadn’t called her, she wouldn’t be in the danger she was in now. If she died, it would be all his fault. Just like last time…

“Spike? SPIKE!!”

Spike jumped and wiped away tears. “I’m here, luv. I’m here. What’s wrong? Besides the obvious,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t hear pounding anymore, so I thought something had happened to you.”

“No, jus’ thinkin’.”

Before he could start punching the lid again, however, he hear her say in a small voice, “Before I heard your voice calling out to me, I thought you’d left me here.”

Spike stopped punching, shock written all over his features. “You…You thought I’d…” he stammered. He composed himself and felt his anger growing. “No! Never! Buffy, I will never leave you. Ever.” He grinned, his ferocity abating. “You’re stuck with me, pet.”

He could hear her laugh through the lid. “Rats. I guess I am.” She paused a moment before she continued. “Thank you,” she said finally. “I’m really glad you came back for…”

Spike frowned and leaned forward. Silence.

“Buffy? Buffy!!”

From inside the coffin, he could hear small gasps. He mentally kicked himself for being so dense and started punching the lid again. She was well beyond her five minutes of air. He shouldn’t have dawdled.

Inside the coffin, Buffy was running out of air. Her vision began to blur as she desperately began clawing at the fabrics on the lid. Her breaths came in labored gasps, and it felt as though someone was piling bricks on her chest.

Outside the coffin, she could heart Spike frantically punching the lid. Every now and then, he’d call her name. She could hear the panic rising in his voice. She would try to respond, but could never manage anything more than a squeak.

She was dying. She knew it. Normally, she’d be happy at the idea, but for some reason the prospect of dying made her claw even harder. She didn’t want to give up so easy.

What made it worse was the fact that this was her worst nightmare, and she was living it again. Ever since she’d been brought back, at least once a week she would have the same nightmare: she was back in her coffin, and she knew she was dying. She could barely see, and she could barely move, and in her nightmares, she didn’t make it out of the coffin. Instead, she would pull one last jagged breath, then close her eyes and surrender to the darkness of death…

NO! No thinking about it, Buffy. Keep clawing. Spike won’t leave you. He’ll get you out. You’ll live. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out…

Her energy spent, she fell back onto the bottom of the coffin and began to sob. It was starting to get darker, and she felt utterly helpless. She tried to blink away the darkness that was threatening to envelop her. Her body shook with fear as she fought to stay alive. But it was a losing battle, and she knew it.

She could barely hear Spike anymore, though she could visualize him screaming himself hoarse. She tried to call out to him again, but couldn’t force any sound out. She couldn’t breathe…

Slowly she closed her eyes and succumbed to the darkness.

She was giving up. He knew it. “BUFFY!!” he sobbed. “BUFFY, PLEASE!!” He pounded on the lid with his fists, both bloodied and torn from his efforts.

“NO!!!” he screamed, smashing his hand into the lid and straight through it.

Ignoring the pain in his hands, he frantically began tearing the metal apart. He could see her leather skirt, and as he tore more of the metal away, he finally caught a glimpse of her shirt.

“Buffy! Buffy, luv, answer me, please! Buffy!!!”

As he continued ripping the metal away, he heard a gasp, then her voice. “Spike?” She inhaled deeply, then launched into a coughing fit.

Spike blinked away tears of relief. “I’m here, luv, hold on.” He tore away the last of the metal and got his first good look at her.

Her fingers were bruised and bleeding, no doubt from trying to get out. Her face was tearstained and red, and she was gasping for breath.

As gently as he dared, he picked her up and out of the coffin. As soon as she was in his arms, she grabbed the front of his leather duster and clung to it for dear life, whimpering slightly.

Spike felt his heart wrenching. After assuring Buffy that he’d follow her, he pushed her out of the grave. He pulled himself out and glanced over at Buffy, who was on her knees, tears streaming down her face. He walked over and knelt down beside her.

“It…in a way, it was worse than before. Because of these nightmares I’ve been having about the night I was brought back. Except, in the nightmares, I don’t make it out. I…” She gulped and her lower lip started to tremble. She didn’t need to finish the sentence. He knew what she had been about to say.

“I guess it was worse ‘cause I was…going, instead of coming, you know? I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear, couldn’t see…what am I saying? I still can’t see!” She tried to laugh, but it just came out in a choked sob.

Spike could feel his heart break, and was surprised that he couldn’t hear it shattering in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. She laid her head on his chest, still crying, as he gently rocked her back and forth, reassuring her with an occasional “Shhh”.

After a few moments had passed and Buffy’s sobs had reduced to sniffles, his whispered, “I’m sorry, pet.”

Buffy sniffled again and sat back, brushing away tears. “For what?” she asked, confused.

Spike sighed. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been in there. You coulda…I almost…” He hung his head, unable to look at her.

He felt her hand under his chin, pulling his head up gently but firmly. Before he could say anything, however, her lips were on his. Not in a crushing kiss, but a soft, butterfly kiss.

He blinked and stared at her as they parted. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead by now. Again,” she added after a few moments with a grin.

She glanced down and gasped. “Oh, jeez, Spike, what happened?”

Spike looked down at his hands. “Ripped open a coffin, actually,” he said, smirking.

She grabbed his wrist and yanked him up. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” She looked up at him and stopped whatever she had been about to say. Slowly she reached up and gently wiped away a few stray tears on his face, surprise evident on his face.

She smiled softly. “Thank you,” she said.

He smiled. “Any time, pet, you know that.” He started to say something, but stopped.

“What is it?”

He sighed. “It’s about what I said earlier. ‘Bout you not comin’ back right.”

She rolled her eyes. “Spike, it’s ok…”

“No, it’s not,” he said vehemently. “I had some big pride thing goin’, and was thinkin’ that I’d bring you down a notch. It was mainly all a rouse so I wouldn’t love you anymore,” he muttered, looking down at his shoes.

“Did it work?” she asked tentatively.

“No! It didn’t! I’m still stuck with these feelings, and all I accomplished was hurtin’ you, which, by the way, I never meant to happen,” he added quickly, looking shamefaced.

Slowly Buffy began to smile. “I didn’t mean what I said, either,” she said.

He looked up at her, a smile starting on his face too. “Really?”

“Really.”

His face brightened visibly at that. “Well, then, we’re good. Right?”

“Right,” she added with extra emphasis.

Spike flexed his fingers and suddenly winced in pain. He glanced over at her fingers, then back up at her. “Let’s take care of this bloody mess, shall we?” he asked.

Buffy nodded, gently taking his hand in hers, and the two headed back to his crypt.

THE END


End file.
